Waves and the Both of Us
by sapereaude13
Summary: “I wasn't aware that this patch of grass was property of the Water Tribe.” Katara and Zuko after the events of the Boiling Rock. Major spoilers through 3x15. Zuko/Katara.


Everyone was finally asleep for the night, and Sokka was clearly competing with Appa for loudest snore. Katara couldn't begin to imagine how crazy it was for her brother to sneak around that Fire Nation prison. Despite the drafty night at the air temple, she could easily imagine the heat from the flowing lava and the hissing steam. Sokka and her father had described the Boiling Rock vividly, and the thought of them all struggling to escape was keeping her awake.

She quietly slid out of her sleeping bag, doing her best to walk away with soft footsteps to not disturb the others. Aang's sleep had grown troubled again since the events at Lord Ozai's palace, and she had to walk cautiously so he could rest. Toph was on her back snoring without shame while her father and Suki rested quietly on either side of Sokka. She snuck off past their encampment, enjoying the sight of the moon in the sky. She could almost feel her strength increasing as the dark clouds slipped by and its full brightness could be realized.

Katara walked for some time, finally happening upon a bubbling brook at the edge of the temple grounds. She sat down, wishing she'd brought a blanket. Now her clothes would get dirty, and she wasn't as eager to sit in the dirt as Toph and the others. The water slipping over the stones soothed her nerves, and she closed her eyes. A quick flick of her wrist, and she pulled some of the water into a tiny ball, rolling it around her palm absent-mindedly.

She heard shuffling in the dirt behind her a few minutes later followed by an exhausted sigh. Katara let the water ball collapse, sending droplets flying out at her companion. For his part, Prince Zuko said nothing as the water splashed him. She wondered why of all the places in the entire temple area that Zuko had to come bother her in this peaceful place.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly as the exiled prince sat down on the ground beside her.

"Nothing," he replied. "Can't sleep either."

"And what makes you think you can sit here?"

She looked over to see the slightest quirk of his lips. "I wasn't aware that this patch of grass was property of the Water Tribe."

Katara had no retort for that. She supposed she could be nicer to Zuko, seeing as how he'd helped bring her father back from the Boiling Rock. He'd been true to his word since offering to help Aang, but she was just waiting for him to slip up. To go running back to his father and his horrible sister like a cowardly animal. Zuko had done that before – surely he'd do it again, she thought.

"So what were you doing with the water?" he asked quietly. Katara rolled her eyes. Not only was he going to sit around and annoy her, but he expected her to make idle chit chat with him. Since when was he so talkative?

She sighed, moving her wrist fluidly. "I don't know really," she muttered, forming the tiny orb of water and bending it up into her hand. The liquid stayed together as she tilted her palm to roll it along the lines there and up her fingers. "Just keeping my reflexes sharp. What do you do?"

"What do I _do_?"

Katara smirked. "To stay sharp." She could barely keep the sarcasm from her voice – being around Zuko tended to make that unavoidable. "Do you set butterflies on fire?"

"Maybe this was a bad idea," he rasped, moving to his feet.

She shook her head. They had to get along – it's what Aang wanted, and though Katara would rather live in a cave with badger moles for the rest of her life than be friends with Prince Zuko, she had to try a little harder. "I'm sorry," she offered, sending the ball of water in a high arc and back into the brook. "This whole 'Zuko is nice now' thing is still a bit new to me."

He nodded, his dark, messy hair getting in his eyes. "It's new to me too, you know," Zuko admitted. She watched him settle down again from the corner of her eye. The side of his face that was marred with that horrific scar was visible, and she thought back to that fateful time in Ba Sing Se. If she'd helped him that day, would Aang even be alive now?

They sat in silence for a while, the moon's glow making the simplest movement of her fingers bend the water in the brook into waves. She could feel him watching her, but it didn't seem to annoy her like usual. Not that he looked at her so often. And not like she cared what he looked at. Her hands moved almost of their own volition, making the quiet little brook into a splashing stream with small frothy waves.

"Don't be afraid," he told her, and before she could react, there was a small, but powerful flame rolling along down the brook. The fire ball was no larger than the orb of water she'd balanced in her own hand minutes earlier, and Zuko bobbed his fingers back and forth to keep the flame rolling in time with the wave.

She smiled at that, watching the orange fire hover precariously close to the white-capped wave. The slightest adjustment of her thumb, and she could easily put his out. Katara had the advantage at night, and no matter how hard he concentrated, there was no competition. But he didn't seem terribly concerned with a battle of strength.

Katara glanced aside to see a rare grin on the young man's face as he focused on his breathing, working hard to keep the flame aloft within inches of the waves she was making. She decided to have a bit of fun of her own. A slight wiggle of her pinky and the ball of flame became coated with a thin layer of ice crystals. Zuko chuckled. "No fair," he protested, his eyes narrowing as he made the fire ball grow slightly larger. The tiny bits of ice melted and dropped back into the foamy wave beneath it.

"Can't handle a few harmless little snowflakes, Zuko?" she teased, stilling the waves and leaving the flame floating in mid-air. "I'm not even trying."

He grunted back, but with some good humor in his tone. The flame ball expanded until it was about the size of her head. His precision and control were rather surprising, and he kept the flames tightly swirled together. She moved her hand gently, moving the water back, then snapped her wrist in a whipping motion, expecting to put the flame out – but he was faster than she expected. The fire floated upward seemingly without effort, easily dodging the wave she'd sent after it.

She bit the inside of her cheek. There was no way she would admit that she was having a fun little match of wits with Zuko of all people. His nation had done so many horrible things. Just because he'd had a temporary change of heart didn't erase every terrible act. Katara narrowed her eyes, turning a bit of water into a dart-like icicle. She sent it through the center of the fire ball without blinking, but Zuko trapped it.

"You fight dirty," he muttered, a bead of sweat running down his brow as he let the flame expand, the icicle suspended within. Katara was amazed at his restraint. He could easily destroy the icicle but instead concentrated on working the flame around it. She couldn't take her eyes away from the dancing fire leaping and swirling in a perfect circle around the bolt of ice.

Katara raised her other hand, sending half a dozen new blades of ice at the round fire. With each additional icicle, Zuko had to work harder to keep the flames tight and controlled. She watched him finally give in, the icicles piercing the fire and drenching the flames with a quick snap of her wrist. "I never fight dirty," she argued as he rested his hands in his lap.

He snorted. "Say that at dawn if you'd like to try again."

"This isn't going to become a regular event, Zuko," she spat at him quickly. "I'm not your friend."

Zuko bowed his head, and a knot formed in her stomach, twisting with anger and embarrassment. He'd done absolutely nothing wrong, and she was immediately defensive. What was wrong with her? Sokka, Toph, Aang…everyone was changing, welcoming Zuko as best they could. It had taken a lot of courage for him to abandon his family and offer to help Aang. Why was she being so cruel? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she apologized.

He waved a hand dismissively. "You _did_ mean it," he mumbled. "I understand why…"

"No," Katara replied, grasping his wrist. "After what you've done for my father…what you've done for Aang, I have no reason to question you." She met his eyes, doing her best to earnestly convey her regret. "Thank you."

Zuko's focus shifted to her hand upon his skin, a quizzical look in his eyes. He was warm to the touch, almost as hot as one with a fever. His voice was strained, confused by her action. "Katara…"

The two of them grew quiet, and she withdrew her hand. What was she doing? It was strange dealing with Zuko now, not expecting him to double cross her at every turn. A blush crept into her cheeks, unavoidable with the warmth of his skin and the strange way he'd said her name. She shook her head, turning her attentions back to the brook before them.

Katara looked anywhere but at the young man beside her. "Why don't we try the wave again?"

He mumbled some sound of agreement, a strong flame appearing again in anticipation of her wave. She stifled the odd feelings coursing through her since she'd touched him, concentrating on knocking out the fire. Something had changed, and she could feel it in the air, could see it in the small ripples in the water. But she didn't know precisely what it meant.

"Planning to fight dirty again?" he asked, the discomfort gone from his voice and the competitive edge returning.

She grinned, readying the wave to strike. "You bet."


End file.
